Baddie Pics の小説・ストーリー

Baby photos, bath photos, birthday photos, embarrassing pictures; it was there and Nellie was taking great delight in my embarrassment. "I hate you!" I whispered to her while Max and Derris were laughing over a picture taken of me trying to steal a piece of my birthday cake before the birthday and ending it with it all over. "Aww! I love you too, boo," she replied, blowing a kiss at me. I rolled my eyes at her before attempting to snatch the album from them. "Hey! What gives?" Max whined. "I think that's enough pictures for one day, don't you think? Besides, aren't you guys supposed to be sad that I'm leaving?"

"This is war." Another text: *We need to talk. Just you and me, Valentine. Tomorrow. My hotel. Room 412. Come alone, or I send these photos to everyone you know. Including your biker boyfriend. - M* Valentina's hands shook. "He's blackmailing me." "Then we go to the police." "With what? Photos that make me look guilty? A video taken out of context?" She looked at Duke. "He's setting me up." "So what? You go to his hotel room alone?" Duke's laugh was bitter. "Not happening."

“Matt, check out the first and last pictures. That’s at Mackenzie’s house. Remember when she asked us to come help her with some drunk girl upstairs and nobody was there? It must have been a fucking set up.” “Jesus, that means she’s been planning this for what? 2 months?” He says. “At least. What I can’t figure out is how she got this second picture.” I zoom in more and see that I’m wearing a black sports bra and shorts. “This picture must have been taken at the gym. But how did she even know where it was? And how the fuck are her photoshop skills this good? It looks so real,” I say, still examining the photo. “Maybe she paid someone to do it for her,” Cade suggests.

He pushed to his feet then, sliding the first pile of pictures over to me and spreading them out, and as I stared down at the pictures, a frown crept into my face, explicit images filling my vision. “I should warn you,” he started, placing his hands on his lips, “some of them are really bad. My friend at NYPD really had to get through a lot to get me these images.” My eyes were boring holes into the pictures on the desk now, burning bright and hot. “What am I looking at?” I demanded in a gruff voice, queasiness starting low in my tummy. Tattered limbs and legs were scattered around in the picture I was staring at, so gruesome a sight.

The pics changes from time to time. To be continued.

His eyes included the biker, who nodded slightly. He glanced at the vulgar pictures on the table. the photos had obviously been morphed, and anyone who was attempting to blackmail their Pet had another think coming, thought the men as their eyes met, steely in their gazes. The alterations had been done skilfully, a person who glanced at them would actually be driven to believe that the naked woman in the picture, servicing different men at the same time, was Bianca. But neither St Just nor O’Grady had even the slightest doubt.

No compassion for anyone. I opened my mouth to speak, but the only thing that came out was a tiny whisper. “Please... Wade, don't show anyone the pictures of me." I thought he didn't hear, then he opens his mouth." I heard him laughing with an evil smile. “Oh, baby girl, I didn't know your tits were so big." He licked his lips and bit his lips. " watching me like something to eat. “Please, Wade! I had tears in my eyes." I don't want to show him he gets to me." It’s okay, I told myself. “Delete my pictures and video, I will do anything."

I asked. “You haven’t seen them?” Her voice dripped with fake sympathy. She reached into her expensive little Prada bag and pulled out glossy pictures, handing them to me like they were weapons. "It's all over the school website. Someone took it yesterday in the evening. They seemed like they were from a date. "

“He thinks I’m visiting an old friend named Vicki.” “What happened to being a good girl?” I can hear the amusement in his voice. “You and I both know you love it when I’m a little bit bad. In fact, Daddy loves it when his little girl is naughty.” “Maybe I do, sweetheart. However, you and I both know what happens to naughty girls, don’t we?” “Maybe you should pull the car over and show me what happens to them.”

In a dark and menacing room, a man was suspended upside down, his agonized screams reverberating as two merciless men relentlessly beat him with hot rods. Two burly figures in black shirts and trousers, each holding a rifle, stood guard at the door. A tall man, clad in a black tuxedo, strode into the room, his face etched with sullenness and eyes ablaze with fury. He was Andrew Anderson, a Mafia Boss known for his rudeness, arrogance, aggression, and ruthless dominance. The world quaked under his authority; none dared to defy him, and all lived in dread of his power.